Alfred's Interview
by Titch360
Summary: Well, he had to be hired at some time.


Alfred's Interview

"So, I think everything here will be just perfect. Whaddaya say? When can I start? Do I have the job?"

Thomas Wayne cocked his head, staring at the latest in a long string of losers the employment agency had sent over. _This man can't be serious, can he?_ "NO, you buffoon! Of course you don't have the job! How can you possibly think I would leave my ancestral home and my brand new wife in _your_ care?"

The man had the gall to look offended as he stood up, his blue leisure suit at least one size too tight, his gold chains jangling against his open collar. As he headed towards the door, Thomas could hear him saying, "Geez, what a crock. These rich pricks are all alike. That's the last time I do a favor for that bum at the employment agency."

Thomas Wayne placed his head in his hands, his headache growing to biblical proportions. He couldn't tell if it was from the idiocy of the man or the lingering stench of his Hai-Karate aftershave. How could it be so difficult to find a professional butler? Gotham may be starting to decline, but there had to still be good people around, right?

Martha Wayne, only Wayne in name for about a month now, walked into the study and sat on the arm of her new husband's chair. She massaged his neck for a minute until he looked up appreciatively and smiled warmly at his bride.

"It's okay, Tommy, you'll find one. You could always ask your father where he got his butler from, that may help."

He sighed, "I did ask him, Martha. All these punks and losers I saw today are from the agency that dad used to find Fillmore all those years ago. They have really gone downhill since then, I guess."

"Why do we even need a butler, anyway? Sure, it's a big house, but I think I can keep up with the cleaning. We don't use all of the house for just the two of us, I should be able to take care of it."

Thomas smiled up at his new wife. "Father is paying for a butler for us, it was his wedding present. We need to find the right person. Besides, what is going to happen to the house once we start having all those kids? I told you before we got married, I want at least seven. I want to be the last Wayne only child. Seven generations of Wayne's, and all of them only ever had one child. That is one family tradition I look forward to breaking."

Martha giggled, "Seven, huh? We should start right now, shouldn't we? If you plan on keeping me that busy, I want to get them out of the way, while I'm still young."

Thomas smiled, then pulled his wife onto his lap, kissing her passionately. The couple lost track of time and were only stopped in their plans because the doorbell rang.

Martha got up from Thomas' lap unwillingly to get the door. Thomas held on to her hand for as long as possible, saying, "Just let them stand there and wait. I don't feel like dealing with any more idiots or lechers today."

"Now, Thomas, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we get back to those seven children you want."

"I don't know who this could be. The agency said they were sending over six applicants, and the lounge lizard was number six. Maybe it's a friend?" he thought hopefully.

Martha walked into the entryway and opened the door. Standing on the porch was a tall, thin man wearing a tuxedo, holding his hands clasped behind his back. "Excuse me, madam, but is this the Wayne residence?"

Martha was caught off guard by the gentlemanly manners and disposition of the man. She had never see him before in her life, but the gentle manner in which he addressed her instantly put her at ease. "Yes, this is. I am Martha Wayne. How may I help you?"

"I am here to apply for the position of butler. If it is still available, of course." The man made a slight bow.

Martha was charmed by his English accent. "Yes, of course. The position is still available and we are still interviewing potential candidates. Please, won't you come in? My husband, Thomas, is in the study. He will be conducting the interview."

The man entered the manor. "Thank you, madam. You have a lovely home. I look forward to meeting your husband."

She led the way down the hall, pointing out the various rooms of the manor on the way. The potential butler made no comment as they went, and Martha thought she sensed nerves from the man. "Here we are, the study. Mr. Wayne is inside."

Martha walked away, towards the kitchen, as the man straightened his tie and knocked on the door. He waited for two full minutes before hearing a slightly muffled "Come in" from inside the office. He opened the door and took a single step inside to present himself to the master of the house.

At the desk, Thomas Wayne looked up from the book he had been reading. The man stopped at the door and opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Thomas interrupted him.

"At least you are dressed appropriately. Come in, sit down, let's get this over with."

The potential butler was perturbed by the manners of the man, but took notice of the way the man held himself. He could tell the master of the house was tired. By the tilt of the man's head he could tell he had a headache. He determined that, if he was to get the job, he had to keep this short.

Mr. Wayne sighed before asking, "Okay, who are you? Tell me about yourself?"

The man took a deep breath. "My name, sir, is Alfred Pennyworth. I was born in London, educated at Eton, University at Cambridge, then Oxford Medical School. I served in the Royal Army Medical Corps before taking a medical discharge. I spent some time on the London Stage, performing Shakespeare, before leaving for America, looking for new avenues. A new start, you may say."

Thomas felt bad for being so abrupt with the man, but he was exhausted. At least this one seemed like he could hold it together through an interview without casing the house. Either way, he would make this quick. "Okay, Albert. You certainly have impressive qualifications. Why do you want to be a butler with a background like yours?"

He ignored being called the wrong name. "I am looking for a change of scenery. I have seen too much on the other side of the world, I would like to try this side now."

_That sounded somewhat cryptic_ Thomas thought. "What sort of experience do you have as a butler?"

"None, sir. Like I said, new horizons. I am fully capable of cooking, cleaning, laundry, chauffeuring, and any other household tasks you may require of me."

Thomas began to take the interview a bit more seriously after hearing the answers so far. "As I would expect, but how are you with children?"

Alfred flinched and wanted to look away, but didn't. "I can handle children, sir. How many do you have, sir?"

_Why did he flinch?_ "None, yet. We _are_ newlyweds, after all. However, we are planning for a large family."

Alfred looked pained, "Very well, sir. That is your choice, of course."

Thomas sighed again, wanting to end the interview and send the man away. _I'm really not in the mood for this right now._ "Um, Alan? How did you hear about this job in the first place? I know the agency didn't send you over."

"You interviewed my roommate earlier today. He told me about the opening. I thought I would take my chances. I certainly feel I would be a much better candidate than he."

Thomas chuckled, "After what I have seen today, you are not far off. Be glad you are not a part of that agency, they would probably send you to clean bathrooms at a state park. I'm sorry, Alley, but would you be willing to come back another day? I have a killer headache, and I just don't want to make this decision while in this condition. Call me in a week or so to set something up, okay."

It was Alfred's turn to sigh, _Guess I have to keep looking_. "If that is your wish, sir."

Thomas tried to smile at the man. "Thank you, Al. If nothing else, you have confirmed for me that there are still good people in Gotham City. I'll walk you out."

Thomas got up and walked out of the office with the taller man. "By the way, why did you flinch when I asked about kids?"

Alfred didn't want to answer, but thought it couldn't hurt anything at this point. "I told you that I needed a fresh start. A year ago, my wife took our daughter and left me. I haven't seen either of them since. She is doing her best to avoid me. I miss my daughter, and hate the thought of her growing up without me." Alfred didn't look at Thomas as he told his story. "Her third birthday is next week."

Thomas felt for the man, but it didn't change anything about the job. _He should be out trying to find his wife, not looking for a job on the other side of the world._

They reached the front door, Mr. Wayne opened it for the nicest man he had met today. "Don't forget to call. Monday morning, we can set something up. I'm sorry, I just need a bit of time."

"Of course, sir, and thank you." Alfred shook Thomas' hand and walked off, down the drive. It was a ten mile walk back to his apartment, and Alfred was not looking forward to it.

About one hundred yards from the gates of Stately Wayne Manor, Alfred heard the sound of an engine approaching. A minute later, a van came tearing around the corner, passed the walking Englishman, and slammed on its brakes. Alfred thought the van may be coming back for him, but as he turned, he saw the van lining up with the gates leading to the manor. It revved its engine and plowed through the gates, putting good use to the aftermarket bull bar Alfred had noticed covering the grille.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Alfred jogged back to the gates of the manor and spied as three men holding shotguns got out of the van and approached the house. Against his better judgment, Alfred approached the van and looked inside. It was empty. Alfred looked towards the manor in time to see the front door kicked in. One man stood guard at the door while the other two entered the house.

_What is going on here? Is this just a robbery, or something more? That man, and his wife, were very nice. They don't deserve this. If only there were such thing as mobile telephones, I could call the police. I guess I have to help them out on my own._

As he stood guard on the door, the goon wondered what the haul would be from this one. It was the crew's third robbery in as many days. The other two houses had been almost empty, their occupants not home. This one was more dangerous, the occupants were home. They had planned ahead and figured the shotguns would intimidate the young, rich couple. What they hadn't planned on was the van rolling down the driveway. _I know I set the parking brake_. He rushed after the van, grabbed the door handle, tore the door open…and was kicked in the face by a very nice wingtip shoe. The man dropped as Alfred stopped the van. He approached the man, who was only dazed, grabbed the shotgun, and smashed the butt of the weapon into the man's nose, breaking it and knocking the goon out.

_One down, two to go._

Alfred left the shotgun in the van and approached the house. He could hear Mrs. Wayne crying from the living room and Mr. Wayne trying to soothe her. Off to the right, in the direction of the study where the interview had taken place, Alfred heard drawers being opened. He approached the door and glanced in. Behind the desk, one man stood with his back to the door, pulling a small safe out of a wall cabinet. He set it down on the desk and returned to the cabinet to ruffle through the papers. Alfred tiptoed up to the desk, looking for a weapon and wishing he had brought the shotgun. Instead, he picked up the safe as quietly as possible. It was steel, and weighed close to forty pounds. Alfred hefted it as quietly as possible as the man turned around, surprise in the goon's eyes as he saw the man in the tuxedo. The surprise didn't last, because the next thing he saw was the safe slamming into his head. Then, he saw nothing. He was unconscious before he hit the floor, with several broken bones in his face and a small pool of blood spreading as he settled to the floor.

Alfred wished he didn't have to do that. He hated violence, and the mess it caused. He was trained as a medic, and it was against his nature to be the one inflicting the injuries.

Thomas Wayne sat on the floor of the living room, holding his crying wife. The criminal, who had not identified himself, was standing with the shotgun held inches from Thomas' face. He had been assured by the goon that they would not be harmed, so long as they told the crooks where the valuables were. Thomas had given up the location of his safe in the study and one of the men had left to find it. The remaining man was becoming fidgety. He obviously thought this was taking too long. He yelled for his partner, to see what was taking so long. There was no answer. He yelled again. Still no answer. The crook edged towards the door of the living room and looked to the front door. He expected to see a partner and a van. Instead, he saw nothing.

He returned to the living room, pointing the shotgun shakily at Martha Wayne. "Tell me who else is in this house, or your wife loses her head!" the man yelled.

"No one, I swear. We live alone." Thomas pleaded, trying to shield his wife as much as possible.

"You have five seconds to tell me, before you both die!"

Thomas hugged his wife as she cried into his chest. The goon counted down, but stopped at one. The Wayne's squeezed their eyes shut, expecting to hear the boom of a shotgun. Instead, they heard a sickening crack and a thump as the man fell to the floor. Thomas, still holding his crying wife, looked up. Instead of seeing a goon holding a gun to his head, he saw the man he had turned down for the position of butler. The goon was laying on the floor, his neck at a very unnatural angle. Looking back up at the man, he asked, "Are you with them?"

"No, sir."

"Are there any more?"

"There is one in the office, and one in the van in the driveway. Both are no longer in any condition to offer harm tonight."

"I thought you said you were a medic in the Army."

Alfred smiled, "Even medics have to go through basic training, sir."

Thomas smiled back, "Alfred, you're hired."

**A/N: Standard disclaimer: I don't own any characters.**

**There are origin stories everywhere, but I don't think I have ever seen Alfred's. So this is my take on what could have happened. I have set it sometime in the 1970's, even though it should probably be set in the mid-1960's. The opportunity to use a leisure suit was just too appealing. For the outfit, I was thinking Cousin Eddie from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.**


End file.
